


Jealous of the Night

by louisianaspell



Category: I'm Dying Up Here (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, clay appuzzo - Freeform, clay is still a comedian, musician reader, non Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 14:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisianaspell/pseuds/louisianaspell
Summary: While waiting for his turn on stage, someone across the bar catches Clay's eye. The beginnings of their relationship. The name of the song I use for the reader is called Lover, Please Stay by Nothing But Thieves.





	Jealous of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as a submission for one of @bucky-plums-barnes theme days. The idea wouldn't let me go, so here we are! I hope you enjoy this!

It had been over a year since Clay last performed on stage and he knows that it’s time he got back out there. He knows there’s a risk not performing for an extended amount of time, his name could lose the recognition that he worked so hard for and the doors that he worked so hard to open could start to close. He’s used his time off to spend some much needed time in the home that he worked so hard to pay for, it was strange at first realizing that he had felt more at home in hotels and airports than in his own home. Most importantly, Clay was using this time to work on new material.

That new material was the reason he was sitting in this dive bar waiting for his chance at its weekly open mic night so he can test it out before he tries booking gigs again. Clay isn’t even sure if you could technically call it an open mic night, since the owner has been bragging to him all night about booking someone to draw people through the door. The older man explains that even though the bar was known amongst comics and fans for their open mic, they wanted to draw in the music crowd. The bar is struggling and needs the money he explained and Clay sees no fault in that, everyone has bills they have to pay. He knows in the past that he’s done a few lame jobs just for the sake of making sure he had enough money to make sure his rent check didn’t bounce.

Clay continues sitting at the bar waiting for his turn, slowly nursing his beer and scribbling some final notes on his setlist. He tunes outs the few musicians that have turned up, they weren’t bad just not his type of music but he pays close attention to the other comics that have showed up. He mainly focuses on bar patrons and their reactions and what kind of jokes are getting the best response. It’s a good crowd he decides, a good crowd to test out some new jokes and monologues on.

“Hey man, you’re up.” The bartender tells him, nodding towards the stage. Clay quickly finishes the rest of his now room temperature beer before making his way onto the small stage.

This is what Clay loves most in the world. Being up on stage, any stage, and listening to the laughter of the crowd. Knowing that for a few minutes he connects with each person in the room, that they see him and he is reason they’re laughing and smiling. This is why Clay will never totally understand social media, sure it’s a great tool to connect with and make new fans, but going viral or getting millions of followers will never compare to the feeling of being on stage and hearing the sound of laughter fill a venue.

Clay does a solid fifteen minute set. He’s pretty happy with the crowd’s reaction to his new stuff, granted some of the jokes didn’t quite land the way he wanted them to, he’s a perfectionist and that’s why he’s testing them out here. He waves and thanks the crowd before leaving the stage and makes his way back to the bar, he wants to write down the changes he wants to make while they’re still fresh in his mind. Clay loves the attention he gets off stage after a set, pats on the back and people telling him how good he was. He wishes he could bottle it so he can have it on hand whenever he’s feeling like shit.

He’s lost track of time in writing down the notes from his set, somehow Clay has missed the bar filling up. He looks around at the larger crowd, wondering where all these people came from and how in the hell did he not notice. The atmosphere in the bar as changed as well, there’s an excited energy in the air as people start to turn their attention back to the stage. He watches the MC for the night walk on stage to introduce the next and final act of the night, it turns out it’s another musician. Clay lets out an annoyed groan, he’s had his fill of guys playing acoustic guitar and doing their best Ed Sheeran impression for the night. He starts gathering up his stuff, he tucks his little notebook safely into the inside pocket of his coat (he’s old school like that, leave him alone), he signals the bartender he’s ready to close up his tab.

While he waits for the bartender, Clay turns his attention to you. You’re by yourself sitting at the end of the bar, downing shots of some sort of what he can only assume to be strong liquor. There’s something about you that makes Clay want to approach you, maybe ask if he can buy a drink or something. Before Clay can make his move, you’re torn away from the bar as a man grabs you by the arm and pulls you toward the stage and the bartender returns with his credit card and receipt. He signs his name on the small slip of paper and leaves a generous cash tip, he’s about to start making his way out of the bar when he sees you standing on stage as the man who pulled you away hands you a black electric guitar.

“Oh.” Clay thinks to himself as he stands frozen in place, he watches you nervously fidget the microphone stand to your height and angled just so.

“Hey guys. I just wanna thank you guys for coming out to this..” you look towards the other guitarist in stage with you, “little surprise show, I dunno what else to call it..” You laugh and Clay is putty in his your hands. “We’re just gonna do a few songs. Hope you guys enjoy.”

If Clay wasn’t completely under your spell as you started playing your guitar, he was when he heard you start to sing.

Lover  
I know you’re weary  
Eyes are tired  
From the night  
Lover  
Come to the kitchen floor  
Tiles are cold  
So am I

The crowd full of people either singing along with you or trying to capture the performance on their phone. Much like everyone else in the crowded bar, Clay mesmerized by your voice and quiet stage presence. While he enjoyed looking at the faces in the crowd, you had a much different approach, you sang to one face in the crowd and right now Clay can’t help but feel that it’s him you’re singing to. He finds himself enjoying the level of intimacy in your performance and hating it whenever you look away or at someone else.

Before Clay knows it, your set is over and he’s left standing in the middle of a crowd of people watching as a group of fans approach you for asking an autograph or to take a photo with you. It’s clear that the majority of the people in the bar were here to see you, suddenly Clay can’t blame the bar’s owner for wanting to brag about getting a big name to perform night, you clearly had the ability to draw a crowd. He wants to talk to you, compliment you on your performance and maybe offer to buy you a drink like he wanted to earlier, but he doesn’t want to interrupt the fans that chat you up. So he waits. He makes his way back over to the bar and passes the time with another beer that he ends up not drinking.

Eventually, you somehow end up sitting beside him at the bar while you talk to one of the other comics that performed tonight, Clay can’t help but feel a slight sting of jealousy when the man makes you laugh. Clay thinks to himself how your laugh might just be the best sound he’s ever heard in his life and he’s jealous that he isn’t the one that made you laugh like that. He watches the other man get pulled into another conversation, leaving you by yourself at the bar for the first since the end of the show. Clay watches as you rest your head on the bar top.

“Rough night?” He asks

“Hmmm?” You lift your head up and turning towards him, “oh, no. I’m just so tired and don’t really know where I am right now, I’m just so jet lagged. I think I’m about ready to sell my soul for a muscle relaxer, a massage, and a good night’s rest.”

“I get it, I’ve been there before.” Clay nods in agreement, he knows that feeling all too well. The silence between you is filled with the background noise of the bar.

“You were really good up there, I mean the crowd loved it.” Clay states.

“Aww, thanks, man. I really liked your set, best comic of the night, for sure.” You answer, playing with the small straw in your glass.

“So, you brought in quite the crowd tonight.”

“Yea, power of social media.” You shrug, still twirling your straw.

Your answer leads Clay to assume you’re one of those popular online musicians. Ya know, the ones big on YouTube or whatever, singing covers and stuff but hasn’t really crossed over into mainstream pop culture. It’s not unusual for Clay to be a little behind on pop culture.

The two of you continue talking, after a bit more awkward small talk which ended leading Clay to find out that you only played tonight because the owner is your uncle and it’s hard for you to say no to family. So here you are sitting next to Clay while sipping an old fashioned completely jet lagged.

Soon it’s last call and Clay doesn’t wanna say goodnight just yet. You must be feeling the same way, because in the middle of trying to work up the courage to ask for your number or if you’d wanna meet up before one of you leaves town you interrupted him.

“I need pancakes.” You slide off your barstool, grabbing your purse and putting down more than enough cash for your drink and a very generous tip.

Clay thinks he’s missed his chance as he watches you look around for the man who performed with you. You call out the man’s name as you make your way towards him, Clay busies himself by gathering his belongings again and acting like he’s not a little hurt. He’s about to walk out the door when he feels someone link their arm with his.

“So there’s this all night diner not too far from here that has amazing pancakes. I’ll show you, if you want.” You smile at him and he feels lucky that you’re only asking for breakfast foods, because he feels like he’d give you a kidney if you asked.

The diner is pretty small, only a couple of booths and seats at the counter. The tired waitress barely acknowledges you and Clay when you walk in, he doesn’t hold high hopes for the food.

Clay slides into the seat across from you, he watches as you study the menu, even though you had just gone into great detail about your cravings for pancakes and bacon the entire walk here, but you flip through it anyway, just in case.

He listens as you order just about all of the breakfast food on the menu, he stares at you wide eyed for a moment before ordering a plate of eggs, hash browns and bacon.

The conversation flows easily between you and Clay, both feeling at ease with another as you each pick food off each other’s plates. You have a mouthful of pancakes with maple syrup dripping down your chin when a fan approaches the table. You wipe the syrup off while Clay sits back and watches as the young woman tells you how much of a fan she is and how your music helped her through a rough patch. He can’t get over at how polite and friendly you are with her when she starts asking a million different questions.

Clay offers to take a picture of you and the young woman. After a couple different photos and a few autographs later, the girl makes her way back to her booth.

“Does that happen a lot?” Clay asks once the girl is gone.

“Pretty much, yea. Life in the spotlight. I’d be surprised if that photo isn’t already on social media, along with a play by play of our conversation. You should watch yourself, Appuzzo. She’ll tell people you were here with me, she probably took a photo of us together before she came over here and next thing you know we’re engaged with triplets on the way.” You tease him. Somehow it doesn’t bother him.

And that is how it begins. How fate can put two people together, let them feel the stirrings of love and what it feels like to finally have found the one. It is also how it can easily try to tear them apart. Is love any match against time and distance away from one another? Is it possible to find each other through a maze of jealousy and temptation? Is their love worth fighting for?


End file.
